Important Information
by FanOfHan
Summary: When Leia is to give Important Information to a Trianii senator, Han is her acting head of security. But things take a turn for the worse when Imperial Loyalists attack the speech ceremony and Han gets caught up in the mess...
1. A Certain Bad Feeling

WARNING.

Contains scenes of torture, violence and adult circumstance. Reader discretion advised.

--------------------------------

"I still don't get why they had to send _you_."

Han Solo walked beside Princess Leia Organa, soon to be Leia Organa Solo, still trying to find out why it was she would be putting herself into so much danger.

"Because, Han, people trust me."

He scoffed.

"Oh yeah? Well, guess what, Princess, _I_ don't trust _people_."

She flashed him a smile.

"I'd noticed. Come on, Han. You'll be there to rescue me if anything goes wrong. Won't you?"

"Wouldn't miss it," he muttered.

"Good. And I'm set to go. So is your squad."

"I get a squad?" he asked suspiciously.

"Oh, yes. Armed and dangerous."

"Just how you like 'em, huh?"

"Just how I like _you_."

He laughed for a moment.

"Look, what's this thing about anyway?"

Leia shot him a cold stare.

"Weren't you paying attention in briefing?"

Han grinned apologetically.

"I was looking at you."

Her expression softened.

"You really are one of a kind aren't you?"

"That's me, sister, one-of-a-kind, never-say-die, scruffy-lookin' nerf-herder."

She looked at him sideways.

"You're never going to forget that, are you?"

"Not a chance…Your Worshipfulness. Now then, about this mission."

"You know a little about it, I imagine?"

Han shrugged.

"I guess. I know you gotta deliver important information, I know I'm your head of security, I know you're gonna be talking outside to a big crowd which I don't like, and I know I've been told enough to worry about your safety."

She nodded.

"That's quite good. The secret important information part is the most important. If we can get this to our people and the Trianii, our problems could halve."

"No," Han retorted. "The most important part is _you_."

Even since the fall of the Empire there had been those unwilling to surrender. Loyalty was high, mainly due to fear should the rumours of the Emperor's death be declared untrue. And those few were making it very difficult for the young New Republic.

Still in its early days, the New Republic already had enough problems without having to attend to star destroyers and rogue TIE-fighters. The information his lover held could halve these problems, so she said, but he had no idea how.

"Well if everybody's ready," he said quietly. "Let's go."

The journey would take them a day and a half through hyperspace (if the _Falcon's_ held up, Leia reminded Han) and there would be a short ceremony in the afternoon on the day of their arrival. Leia would speak at this ceremony and then she would retire, with her head of Security as Han insisted, to a chamber in Senator Algara's massive house where she would divulge the Secret Important Information and the return journey would then be made after a formal dinner.

And Han didn't like it one bit. If the information was secret then there was only one reason for it and that was because it was important. If it was important then it could do damage. If it could do damage then it was dangerous. And if _it_ was dangerous, then so was the situation.

"Boy, I wish we had Chewie with us," he muttered as Leia assisted him in helping the _Falcon_ limp into hyperspace.

"Yes, but you know he needs time to recover."

"Yeah, I know. But I'd feel a lot better if he were here"

"Why?" she crooned, flicking the last of the switches and settling herself in his lap. "Don't I handle the ship as well as he does?"

"You handle the ship fine, Sweetheart," he said matter-of-factly as her hands wandered, _and a lot of other things too_, he thought, "but that's not the point. I don't like this at all."

"You should stop being so paranoid, General," she whispered into his ear before standing and walking out of the cockpit, throwing him a suggestive look with smouldering eyes as she did, "and start having fun."

_When did you loosen up so much, Sweetheart_, he wondered, _and when did I get so tense?_

So instead of fretting about the days to come and whatever dangers there might be, he stood once he was sure the Falcon could handle herself and, because he sure as all seven hells couldn't handle _him_self any longer, he pursued her.

Grateful for the time alone, they made love a few times before their bodies and the chronos told them it was time to sleep.

But Han could not. Instead, he lay awake with Leia cradled in his arms and watched her sleeping. He'd heard a song once that mirrored how he felt. About a man who lay awake late one night and watched his lover who was fast asleep and dreaming. The man watched her for a while and then turned out the light and just lay there in the darkness, thinking that if something happened to him tomorrow would she understand, would she know, just how much she meant to him?

He lay there, half sitting up with Leia fast asleep against his bare chest and breathing deeply, a serene smile on her beautiful face. Would she know? He could never tell her how much he loved her, there just weren't enough words. But he hoped to the Gods she would know, just _know_, somehow.

He brushed a stray lock of auburn hair from her face and she sighed and moved a little. His chest tightened suddenly and his eyes stung. What if tonight was their last? What if something went wrong? What if something hurt him?

What if something hurt her?

_Stop it_, he told himself. _Thinkin' like that's gonna do you a hell of a lot of good, isn't it? Get a grip._

But something was biting at the back of his mind, chewing slowly and laughing as it did.

He didn't have the force to rely on but instinct had never let him down before.

No. He must stop thinking about it. He had much more to lose than he ever had done before and _that_ was what was making him nervous. It _must_ be. She was right. He was just being paranoid.

He kissed her forehead. But that little niggling feeling just wouldn't go away.

"Oh, Sweetheart," he whispered. "I have a bad feeling about this."


	2. Loyalists

Leia opened her eyes to see a sight she never tired of.

"Mornin', Princess."

She smiled and snuggled closer to him.

"Hello."

"We'll be dropping out of hyperspace in about an hour. You might wanna start getting ready."

He climbed over her and padded across the floor.

"What do you think?" he asked, turning to face her, arms splayed.

She looked him up and down. He never failed to amaze her, even though she knew exactly what he looked like. A naked Han Solo! He was so damned handsome, so well defined, all muscle, no fat, lean, strong, and damned wantable. What did she think?

Where were the words?

"Think I should get dressed?" he asked.

"Much as I hate to say it, I do. You'd make an interesting impression on Senator Algara if you meet him like that though."

"Yeah, but he'd be able to see I have nothing to hide."

"Nothing to hide or nowhere to hide it?"

"Princess, if had to I could hide it."

She winced.

"Sounds painful."

He shrugged and changed the subject.

"What do you want me to put on?"

She considered that for a moment.

"Did you bring your dress uniform? The black one with the silver braid?"

He sighed.

"Yeah, I did. And I just knew you'd make me wear it."

"But you look so _good_ in it."

That seemed to placate him and Leia went to shower while Han dressed.

When she had emerged from the 'fresher and gotten herself dressed, she walked back into the cockpit. She sat down and received a stare from Han. She was wearing a long red gown – she knew what red did to Corellians – and her hair was done into such an elaborately complicated style that Han was convinced she'd smuggled an aide on board. She had done something to her eyelashes, she must have, for they swept across her high cheekbones each time she blinked, and her lips were just as red as the dress. Two long gloves sheathed her arms. "Well? What do you think?"

Han had to try very hard to answer.

"I..Uh, I…It's…Wow!"

She smiled.

"Good. We want to make an impact today."

"You certainly will looking like _that_," he grinned.

She walked her fingers up his shoulders and smiled.

"You brush up pretty nicely, you know, General."

"Thanks, Sweetheart," he replied. "Anything for you."

"Ooh," she murmured, "I'll have to remember that!"

He half-smiled and then set about bringing the ship out of hyperspace.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yep," she replied.

"Okay, Princess. In ten…nine…"

The small convoy dropped out of hyperspace together which was a little unusual for the Falcon. Han had informed the rest of the ships that where they landed would be 'base' and then grinned at Leia and told her his ship could still come through when she was needed. Leia had grinned back and told him that was much like her pilot. The landing went without trouble, but something still bit angrily at the back of Han's mind, however much he tried to suppress it.

When they disembarked, Han was first off any of the ships.

By the time Leia had descended the boarding ramp of the Millennium Falcon, Han had already introduced himself as Consort to her Royal Highness and the Princess' temporary Head of Security, and had introduced Her Highness, Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan, as well as the NR Security Squad and stretched out his hand to Senator Algara in a gesture of welcome as he approached, but the Senator seemed reluctant to take it and raised an eyebrow.

"Han Solo?" Senator Algara asked. "You are _the_ Han Solo?"

A Trianii, the senator was slim but built strongly, with a similar physique to Han's except that Han did not have a meter long tail and was slightly taller.

Han's smile faltered. _Uh oh_, his mind said, _how does he know who you are? What did you do to him, Solo?_ His mind raced.

"I, uh…Yes, Senator."

Without warning, the Trianii senator suddenly flung his sinuous arms around Han and embraced him like a brother.

"Solo–General, it is an honour to meet you. My brother has told me much of you."

"Y-Your brother?" Han stammered as the Trianii stepped back again and shook his hand vigorously.

"Yes! I am Algara, brother of KeeHeen, mate of Atuarre and Father of Pakka. You rescued them from Star's End."

Realisation dawned on the Corellian. Many years ago Han had indeed saved the lives of all three Trianii, rescuing them from certain death.

"Right!" Han nodded. "Right! How are they?"

"They are as well as they can be Solo–General. We will board the land shuttle which will take us to my home, Solo-General. I trust that will be to your satisfaction?"

"Yes, thank you, Senator, although I will have to view the grounds myself."

"That is quite understandable. Your Highness," said Algara, bowing before kissing Leia's hand.

"I am unworthy of your presence."

Leia beamed at him.

"Not at all, Senator. I wish to thank you in advance for your most gracious invitation and I am extremely happy that the New Republic can be of service."

"You are quite welcome. Your Consort is quite the hero."

"Mmm," Leia smiled. "He can be."

The land shuttle journey took a mere five minutes and Han spent all of it staring at Leia.

"What?" she asked self-consciously.

"You," he said, quite seriously. "I don't like this."

"The Senator-"

"Is not what I mean, Leia. He seems to be a perfect gentleman. And I got nothin' against that, but, Sweetheart, somethin' ain't right, I'm tellin' you now."

She stroked his face gently.

"It's alright, Han."

"No it isn't. But it will be. I promise."

They alighted from the shuttle and Han's first action was to survey the lie of the land.

"Would you like to see the grounds now?" asked Algara.

Han nodded.

"If it's of no inconvenience to you, Senator."

"Not at all. Please, follow me."

Leia smiled as they walked off together and Han left two young squad members to keep her out of harm. He could talk like a diplomat if he wanted, or like a Security Guard if the occasion arose, or even like a smuggler if she asked very nicely. And for all the protesting he did, he was actually quite good at it.

"…And that's when I realized Star's End wasn't going to get into orbit…"

Han and Senator Algara were returning and both were, it seemed, in good spirits. Han's anxieties had been eased somewhat by the excellent security conditions of the site and by the fact that security personnel would be permitted onto and around the stage and grounds. He was eternally grateful to Luke for agreeing to come along and was waiting for an opportunity to talk to him.

Luke had remained in his ship with a few others to monitor the grounds. The personnel Han had positioned were capable enough. Besides, what could happen?

"That really is a most interesting tale, Solo-General. It was extremely entertaining and I look forward to hearing more of your…adventures…at dinner this evening. But for now I must prepare for this afternoon's speech."

"Of course," Han said, inclining his head as a show of respect.

The Senator walked briskly away from him and disappeared amongst the trees.

Leia walked toward Han and smiled. Han smiled back at her briefly and then looked toward the giant marble stage at one end of the grounds.

"That stage is where you'll be. I'll be standing at the side of it and there'll be guys all around it. I got men posted at all the exits and I got men covering the ridge that's hanging over there."

He gestured to the ridge that overlooked the stage and then smiled properly.

"Alright? I also have men behind the stage in case someone tries that way. The paths that go back to the house are covered too, don't worry, and those marble pillars should make great cover-"

Leia kissed him. When she pulled away he looked a little stunned.

"Han, calm down. It's just a speech. Then I give Algara the information and we eat. Think you can deal with that?"

"The speech I can deal with. It's the trouble I'm worried about."

"_Is she up_?" asked Luke's voice through the comm.

"_She's on her way_," said another voice.

"I got visual on her," said Han, feeling half the weight slide off his chest.

"_What_?" came Luke's voice.

Damned thing had been on the blink for weeks. He held it up to his mouth and said very loudly and very clearly,

"I said, 'I got visual on her.' "

"_Alright_," Luke answered. "_I'm going to check the surveillance inside the house.See what the monitors are showing me._" 

As Leia rounded the corner, she winked at Han. Han shook his head. Had they switched personalities or something?

"_She's on the stage now_," said a different voice. "_The audience loves her!_"

"The audience ain't the only one," Han whispered to himself, but he could not help but feel immense pride as Senator Algara introduced her and the entire audience got to their feet.

"Today we embark on a new era. We will have peace and equality…"

Han watched her speaking. She was so beautiful. How did someone like her ever fall for a guy like him? All he knew was he was damned lucky.

"…Together we can build a better future for ourselves and our descendants…"

'Descendants.' What would their children look like? Would she ever get over her fear of having them? He wished she would. There was an odd paternal yearning that had never been there before.

"…And I ask of you only that you aid us in our quest for…"

So beautiful. And that voice. You couldn't help but listen to that. He remembered how it sounded after they made love, or during, and smiled to himself. He loved to hear her sing, something she did not do often, for her melodies were clear and deep as water and had often soothed his sometimes volatile temper.

"…This is why we must complete our…"

He glanced away. The air was clear here. Birds sang. Insects hummed. Flowers of every shape and colour were blooming, scenting the air. The sun shone on the white marble of the stage, and the podium, and the grass beneath his feet was lush and cool.

There were vines that climbed up the rock to the ridge and twined about the…

"No…" he whispered. "Gods, no…"

There, on the ridge, were several men. Not his own.

"Luke! Luke!"

Frantically he shook the comm.

"Luke! Skywalker!"

Blasted thing! Fine time for it to die on him.

He tried to attract attention by yelling but Leia had just reached a high point and the audience stood, cheering and applauding.

Several of the men were raising blaster rifles.

He ran without thinking, without caring, knowing only that something had to come between her and that blaster bolt and had to do it now.

The sight of him running towards her with such determination and obvious intention was enough warning to the security squad. They drew their weapons immediately and, with a shriek from the crowd, prepared to shoot, but they did not know where to fire.

He mounted the podium and, with one flying leap, brought her down just as shots began to fly through the air. 

He twisted to break her fall and then twisted again to shield her with his body. The squad had taken cover and was retaliating with incredible accuracy, but to no avail. He heard raised voices shouting as to why their shots were making no difference

"BODY ARMOUR! AIM HIGH!" he shouted over the screaming of blasters.

Beneath him, she shook, ducking each time a bolt tore into the marble around them.

"IT'S NOT WORKING!" a voice shouted.

He chanced a fleeting look at the ridge, barely turning back in time to avoid being fried by a bolt. But he had seen all he needed to.

"AIM TO YOUR RIGHT! THEY HAVE A SHIELD GENERATOR!"

He turned back and shoved her under the marble lip of the podium as he kissed her forehead.

"If you love me," he whispered close to her ear, "then stay down!"

And with that he was gone.

He dropped into place beside the squad leader but refused the rifle he was offered.

"NO," he shouted, "I'M GONNA TRY AND GET HER OUT OF HERE, BUT LISTEN! IF I GO DOWN THEN YOU TAKE OVER. IF YOU GO DOWN YOUR S.I.C TAKES OVER, GOT IT? START TO EVACUATE BUT REMEMBER: NO ONE GOES BACK FOR ANYONE ELSE! IT'S TOO LATE FOR THAT NOW! YOUR FIRST PRIORITY IS THE PRINCESS. "

He staggered away through the smoke again.

She felt a rough pair of hands grab her shoulders and haul her to her feet. It took a moment to realise who it was.

She tried to turn to see him but his hands turned her forwards and she felt the warmth of his body pressed to hers.

"Just keep going," he said, "it'll be alright, just keep going."

His voice was hoarse and strained even as he pushed her toward the land shuttle, more strained than it usually was during a blaster fight. The blaster fire did not cease but the smoke was thick enough to provide them with cover.

Suddenly, a young voice shouted,

"DEFLECTOR SHIELD HAS BEEN TAKEN OUT, GIVE IT ALL YOU GOT!"

The order was obeyed without question but after a few moments of silence from the enemy, blaster fire broke out again, more heavily this time and she cried out equally without warning and dropped onto the floor. 

He might have been her shadow for all the speed he completed his action with, shielding her, all the way to the ground, from any further attack. Then he dragged her behind the nearest pillar and crouched there with her.

"You're hit!" he whispered, holding her close.

"It's not bad. It's my shoulder, it just caught it."

"It doesn't matter how bad it is. You're hit."

She felt a hand, warm and moist grab hold of her wrist and he wrapped his arms around her, completely obscuring her from the ridge with a groan of pain. She twisted her neck to look at him and noticed that the moisture on the wrist he was holding was blood, and not because she had cut herself.

"So are you!" she said suddenly, trying to turn to help him but he held her fast.

"No, don't move."

"Where are you hit?" she almost shouted at him.

"My…ah, my side…" he managed.

She felt him sway and closed her hand around one of his strong forearms. She breathed in deeply, for some reason wanting to hold him forever, enjoy the smell of his skin, be lost in his voice, in his arms, but why now?

He held her firmly where she was, resting his head on hers, feeling her hair on his skin.

Why now? Because there wouldn't be another chance.

"I'm sorry, Princess."

She felt his hold slacken.

"What? Are you leaving?"

She felt his chest shudder against her back as he struggled to breathe and a small laugh escaped him as his voice quavered in his reply.

"No, Princess," he breathed. "I'm…I'm not…leaving…"

He turned his head away from her.

"THE PRINCESS IS…IS HIT AND I'M…DOWN..! GET HER OUTTA HERE!" he yelled.

Before she had time to question what he was doing, he had spun her around in his arms and kissed her, long, deep, for the last time.

"You are."

"What?"

"I love you," he whispered, locking his arms about her for one final embrace.

And then another pair of hands grabbed hold of her from behind her and wrenched her from his arms.

"NO!" she screamed. "NO, GO BACK FOR HIM!"

But they kept moving.

"GO BACK FOR HIM!"

Still they did not, hauling her further and further from the man she loved, his eyes following her, a tired smile on his face. In desperation she screamed and kicked the man holding her.

"I ORDER YOU TO GO BACK FOR HIM!"

But her orders counted for nothing; they were not obedient to her, they were obedient to him.

She was bundled into the shuttle and the doors sealed with a low hiss. She was still pounding on the window with clenched fists, tears streaming down her face and he slid off the pillar and lay unmoving on the floor, his lower abdomen drenched in blood.

"NO, NO, PLEASE!"

Beside her, the man who had taken her spoke into his comm.

"The Princess is safe! I repeat, the Princess is safe! We're returning to base."

"_Losses_?" came Luke's reply.

She slumped down in her seat and wept bitterly, not caring that they watched her, not caring that she was not supposed to cry.

The man swallowed hard and, with a voice that broke as he replied, he whispered,

"Solo."


	3. An old Acquaintance

Leia sat dumbstruck on the seat she had been placed in. Luke was talking to her as he cleaned her bloody shoulder but she could not hear him, could not feel the pain of it.

_He's gone_, part of her mind said. _He's gone._

_How can he be gone? I loved him. I_ love _him_, said the rest.

_But you saw him die. You saw him die_ for you 

_But he can't be dead. He had so much to live for. We had so much to live for. He was everything to me._

_Like Alderaan was? And look what happened to Alderaan. It happens to everything you care about, doesn't it?_

_No, it's not my fault._

_It wouldn't have happened if he'd never met you. You forced him to stay in the Alliance, too. And if you'd never been born Tarkin wouldn't have-_

But then a different voice spoke. A voice she loved, a voice she cherished.

_It wasn't your fault. They already had their orders, Princess. They wouldn't have blown it up without permission. Even Tarkin couldn't have done that._

And then she heard that voice, that same voice, telling her that he'd be watching while she made her speech. He'd be standing there while she awed the crowd.

_Knock 'em dead_, he'd told her.

She'd laughed and gone to make her way to the stage. And then, halfway through the speech, she'd suddenly hit the floor, taken down by the only man she'd allow to do so without demanding what was going on.

And then the running and the screaming and the blaster fire and the blood…

And one last embrace. One final kiss.

_I love you._

That was the last thing he'd ever said to her.

_I love you._

She remembered the first thing she'd ever heard him say.

_Can't get out that way._

How strange. To meet and part under virtually the same conditions.

And now he was gone. The only man she'd ever truly loved, the only man who had ever truly loved her in return.

_And whose fault is that?_ asked that voice at the back of her mind.

Luke rose from his place and took out the medi-pack. He pressed a patch of synthflesh to Leia's wounded shoulder and made sure it adhered.

"I'm done," he whispered.

Leia did not move.

"Leia…"

But he could not get through to her. He tried using the force and found that she was lost in memories. He could see them himself.

There was the first time he had shouted at her.

_Maybe you'd like to get back in your cell Your Highness._

And there was the secret flush of adrenaline she remembered it had caused.

And their victorious return.

_I knew there was more to you than money!_

The first time she'd seen the Falcon.

_You came in that thing? You're braver than I thought._

The first time they'd kissed.

_I'm a nice man.___

_No you're not, you're-_

There was the time she'd placed the medal around his neck after the Battle of Yavin and the wink he'd given her.

The argument they'd had in the corridor on Hoth.

_Oh, we need? Oh, what about you need?___

_I don't know what you're talking about._

The Carbon-Freezing chamber.

_I love you!___

_I know._

The first time they'd made love.

Luke withdrew from her mind and took hold of her shoulders.

"Leia, listen to me."

_"Leia, listen to me…"_  
_  
__Why? What do you have to live for now?_

"_Leia, Algara's come to see you. He brought his family…"___

_You have to talk to them. You're a diplomat.___

_But what's the point? Why should you? If it weren't for that speech-_

"Senator Algara," she said softly. "I thank you for coming to visit me."

The stormtroopers picked their way through the dead, searching desperately for their target. There were so many. One of them had to be the Princess.

"I'm sorry, Commander, she's not here," said one of his men.

"I don't understand. We saw her go down."

"She must have escaped. Her entire security squad is gone and there is no sign of the Princess."

"Commander!"

Both the commander and his second in command turned their heads.

"Sir! This one's still alive!"

The commander and a few of his surrounding troopers began to make their way toward the place the trooper was kneeling.

When they reached his side they saw that there was indeed someone who was still breathing.

"White male, estimated age thirty five, injury to lower abdomen. He's lost a lot of blood, Sir. He's not worth anything. I tell you what. Why don't I just put him out of his misery?"

He stepped forward, raising his blaster rifle.

"Wait," said another, grabbing his arm. "He looks important. He might know something. If we take him back and heal him, to a certain extent, we could see what information he's good for."

The Commander looked at the man, at the face that was deathly pale, at the blood that soaked the white vest beneath the black dress uniform, at the bloodied lips, the scar that ran beneath them.

"He's the Princess' Consort. I recognize him. And I don't doubt that when he wakes up he'll recognize me, too."

"You know him, Sir?"

"Oh yes. He served under me."

How long did it take someone to die?

Not that it mattered. It wouldn't be long. He could feel the cold setting in. He wouldn't have long to wait. And the good news was that it didn't hurt anymore. Soon he wouldn't be here. Soon he could rest. And she was safe. He had seen her go.

A white-booted toe kicked him sharply in his wounded side. Now that did hurt. But he couldn't protest, he couldn't strike back, he couldn't even open his eyes. All he managed was a wince and a quiet groan. And then a loud voice cut through his consciousness.

_"Sir! This one's still alive!"_

He heard other footsteps and other voices. Wait, he recognized that voice, the one talking now, from long ago.

_"Oh, Yes. He served under me."_

He felt a rough pair of hands grab him and pull him upright. Then they started to drag him. He began to wish that shot had killed him, and knew that, very soon, he would come regret that it hadn't.   
_  
__"What's his name, Sir?"_

_"Han Solo. Oh, I've waited years for this."_


	4. Meeting Your Enemy, Face To Face

"I am KeeHeen, mate of Atuarre, father of Pakka and brother of Algara. My family and I are forever in your Solo-General's debt."

Leia looked the Trianii up and down. A tall feline being, he was similar to his brother but not identical and his voice was deeper. The female was slightly smaller and her fur was of a different color altogether. The third Trianii was shorter than both but watched her with wide eyes.

"This," KeeHeen said gesturing to the female beside him, "is my mate, Atuarre. She assures me that Solo-General was a fine man, for I did not know him long. My son, Pakka, he is silent always. He has been mute since the Corporate Sector Authorities interrogated him as a cub. But he has always indicated that Solo-General's generosity and his mind were great. We are all terribly sorry for your loss."

"Th-Thank you," Leia managed in a strange monotone. "Your sympathy is greatly appreciated. It must seem terribly rude of me but I hope you'll excuse me. I need to lie down."

"Of course, Your Highness."

KeeHeen bowed. Leia nodded her own respect and left the room.

KeeHeen turned to Luke.

"I know also that you were very close to him," he said. "His loss is…"

Luke looked up when he stopped talking. KeeHeen was staring at him, puzzled.

"Are you unwell, Skywalker-Commander?"

Luke shook his head.

"No, I…I feel…like there should be something missing…"

"In time you will accept it."

"No, that's not what I mean. There should be a space in the force where Han used to be. Han's light is weak but it's still there."

Leia lay on her bed, their bed, in the Falcon and stroked Han's pillow with her fingertips. Beside the bed was an image of both of them taken during the celebrations on Endor. They were smiling, they were happy, they were together.

She picked it up and looked hard at it but soon it became a blurry mass of color and even Han's smile disappeared. She hugged his pillow close. She could still smell him on it, the musky scent of his skin that she had come to love, and even some of the aftershave he sometimes used.

She tried to recall his face, that winning smile, in some desperate attempt to find comfort. Something cold began to coil itself around her heart and squeeze and, to her utmost distress, she found that, as so often happens with the loss of someone close, she could no longer remember properly what he looked like. And it hurt her.

_I love you..._

Leia Organa, now never to be Leia Organa Solo, closed her eyes, buried her face and wept.

The light hurt his eyes. That was the first thing that registered. It was bright, it was white and it hurt. But there was no way he was dead. That was too much to hope for. No, there was too much pain for him to be dead.

He attempted to sit up but soon discovered that there were numerous straps crossing his body. He squinted and tried to turn his head but to no avail. He was paralyzed from the eyes down.

Where in hell was he? He felt so tired, his eyelids, so heavy. And whatever he was lying on was by no means soft but it was somewhere to lie nonetheless.

_No! Stay awake, Solo!_

He knew he had to think about this, about where he was and what had happened…

There had been a speech, Leia's speech, and there had been a crowd. They were all calm enough so what was wrong? Stormtroopers! There had been stormtroopers and…Ah, yes. He had taken that shot for her. Thank the Gods. And then she had escaped and he had lain on the ground on his back feeling the blood rise in his throat with the bile. And he had waited, waited for the growing cold to end the pain.

But he hadn't been allowed that privilege, obviously. He'd been kicked and then someone had called someone else to look at him. And then there was a voice, a voice he knew from long ago…

_Krixt Vaux_, said that little voice in his head, the one that had been laughing at him that night as he lay with Leia. _You remember Krixt Vaux, don't you? General Krixt Vaux, the man you hated and who obviously felt the same about you? Of course you do. He was the one who made your life a misery. He was the one whose words cut the deepest. You remember Vaux. And, tough luck, Solo. He remembers you, too._

"Is he awake?"

Han's open eyes snapped shut. _No, he's not awake, no, he's not awake, no, he's not awake!_

"He wasn't the last time I checked."

"Well look in on him, will you? The sooner he's awake the sooner we can move him."

"His condition is stable. If you wanted to move him-"

"I want him to be awake. Did you give him the LV?"

"No, but I can if-"

"No. I want him awake for that, too. Lakaya ought to be notified that he's here. She'll have plans for him. She's been looking forward to this almost as much as I have."

Leia stared at that photograph as she lay curled up on their bed. Tears still streaming from her eyes, but silently now. She didn't have the strength to sob anymore.

She rolled over and looked at the clothes he had left draped over the back of the chair and felt her face begin to twist again.

She needed a shower. She was hot, sticky and her face stung. It took every ounce of determination not to just lie there and allow herself to waste away, but she did it, she knew she had to, and made her way to the 'fresher.

"I do not understand, Skywalker-Commander," KeeHeen insisted. "I am told that the Princess herself saw him die. I have, much to my regret, seen the surveillance recordings myself. He used himself to shield her and there was no time to go back for him."

"But there should be a space where his life was. And there isn't. I should feel that he's gone but I don't! We have to go back. We have to see if he's alive!"

KeeHeen glanced at his wife and son, and then at his brother. Then he nodded slowly.

"I will go with you to my brother's house. We will look for Solo-General. When we find him, we will bring him back. Whatever condition he is in."

A hand grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back.

"So glad you could Join us, Slick," said the man to whom the hand belonged.

"Vaux," Han whispered.

"Ah, you do remember me?"

Han snorted. He was minus his shirt to protect his skin and may have been beaten senseless already and chained to the wall by his wrists, but there was no failing to remember Krixt Vaux.

"How can anyone forget you? I still bring my dinner back occasionally if someone mentions your name."

It wasn't a clever retort, he knew that, and he knew that saying it would probably get him backhanded across the face – which it did – but it felt good to know that he could still get a rise out of Vaux, even after all this time.

"Dear, dear," said Vaux, shaking his head and his now stinging hand. "Still the same old Slick, I see."

"Do you mind?" Han asked, rebellious despite his position. " 'Slick' is a nickname. That means it's something my friends call me."

"Don't you consider me a friend, Slick?"

Han stared hard at the man but smiled almost manically.

"I never considered you more than a worthless slimebag who had more power than he deserved. Or, for that matter, knew how to handle."

"Now, now," said Vaux with a smile as he released Han's head and stalked about the cell. "I wouldn't speak like that to me, Slick."

"Oh? I don't serve under you anymore. In fact, mostly thanks to you, I don't serve under anyone anymore. Actually, I guess I do owe you for that one."

Vaux laughed.

"You will be of great use to us."

"Why?" asked Han. "What do you want? Ransom?"

Vaux laughed again.

"What use is money to us? No, no. We don't want ransom. We want to know something. And regardless that you no longer obey me, I will have what I need to know. Eventually…"

"Oh yeah?" Han scoffed. "And what's that?"

"I want to know," said Vaux with a sickening smirk, "just what information the princess is supposed to give Algara."

Han shook his head.

"That's _Senator_ Algara. And Her Royal Highness is the only one the information was given to."

"And dear Mon Mothma would put her in so much danger?"

Han felt his blood boil. No! This man would not stir these feeling in him. Not again.

"Mon Mothma was actually minimizing the danger by telling only one person. But then I'm sure you knew that."

Vaux smiled and changed the subject.

"There's someone I'd like you to meet, Slick. She's dying to meet _you_."

Leia went into the cockpit with one of Han's shirts over her tiny frame. It was long enough to almost reach her knees and it was warm.

She had dried her hair after washing it – with Han's various soaps and cleansers – and it rested free and flowing on her shoulders. And it smelled like him.

She walked around to his chair and looked at it for a moment. There was now a permanent impression in it, roughly Han shaped. She curled up in the chair, not cold, but not warm either, and tucked her legs up underneath her, pulling the shirt right down over her knees until it covered her small feet again. Then she stared at the controls.

His hands would play across them with lightening speed, calculating and defending, and he would. It was here that some of their more heated conversations had transpired but she always loved watching him work.

Leia closed her eyes and imagined she could hear him. She began to cry again as she realized that she still could not call his face to mind. She curled up in his seat, closed her eyes and, after weeping herself into exhaustion, fell finally into dreams.

"She can't feel me at the moment," Luke said, quietly picking his way through the dead. "So she doesn't know I'm here."

"She would be angry if she did?" asked KeeHeen.

"Maybe."

"Why can you not contact her?"

"I'm not sure," Luke replied, "but when I tried to use our link it was kind of blurred, kind of fuzzy, kind of…numb."

"That is understandable."

"Yeah, but there's something going on here. Something isn't right. I mean, why is his light still there? The surveillance monitors cut out after she left; I think the troopers hit the power generator, but…I don't know. I can feel something."

Han stared at the tall dark haired woman Vaux had brought into his cell.

"And who in all seven hells is this?"

"Manners, Slick. I'm sure you've heard of the Ch'thorians?"

Han thought for a moment and came up with his answer. Ch'thorians were beings incredibly skilled in erotic arts and had hair that - uncut after puberty - was semi sentient and thereby capable of caressing, grasping, tickling and generally adding a whole new dimension to nocturnal  
activities.

"Yeah, I heard of 'em. What do you want with _her_? The wife not satisfying?"

Vaux ignored the last comment.

"She requested that _she_ be the one permitted to torture you. She was quite taken with you when she first saw your face on the holos. Lakaya is a Ch'thorian and an expert in her field. I _will_ have that information from you, Solo."

He left the cell and closed the door behind him. Han looked at her. Her hair, deep purple, was flicking about in search of someone to caress. Her dark eyes were open wide. She smiled and held up a hypo. Han swallowed hard.

"Do you recognize this?" she asked.

There was an odd reddish liquid in the container that was attached to the hypo.

Han did not answer her.

"This is Lytisil Verithinine, a pain enhancing drug. I can put enough into your body so that you will pass out from the prick of a needle. But, of course, the beauty of Lytisil Verithinine is that it won't let you stay unconscious. I can make your agony last for _years_ and you will be awake through it _all_. But only if you don't tell me what we want to know."

She looked up at him from beneath long lashes and began to stroke his bare shoulder.

"Will you tell me?"

Han scowled.

"Much as I'd like to, I don't know anything."

She smiled in return.

"Then I advise you keep still. This will hurt, General Solo. A great deal. You may even cry out. But then…"

She leant down close to his ear.

"…I've always wanted to make you scream."


	5. I Will Forever More

Leia awoke with a start. And then she proceeded to burst into tears again once she realized where she was and what it was she'd been dreaming. After seeing Han die for her, couldn't she at least dream about their last night together, or their first? Why was her anguished mind showing her images of her beloved being tortured? He was dead and she was still hurting him.

"Well, that's it. I'm certain. He's not here. If he were here then we'd have found him. Agreed?"

"Agreed. So then where is he?"

Luke turned to him.

"I can't tell."

Han, hanging from the wall and shuddering, looked up at Vaux, who was grinning broadly.

"What are we going to do with you?" asked Vaux, staring at Han's battered face as he wrenched his head back by his hair – something he had a penchant for doing.

Han winced and hissed through his teeth. Vaux' smile widened.

"There are so many things, are there not?"

Han could barely talk now, his lips and jaw were so swollen. He still tried.

"…stard," he managed.

Vaux laughed.

"Oh, dear, Slick, what would the Princess say?"

Han narrowed his eyes. One was already so inflamed that he could hardly see through it.

"She'd…sssay the…sssame…you…sssadissst…"

"Slick, really, you sound like a snake."

Han made a feeble attempt to struggle against the chains restraining him, and was stayed by yet another fist. He groaned quietly.

"I really do have trouble deciding what to do with you but, thankfully, it is not my job to decide."

Lakaya walked back in and smiled at him.

"Well rested, are we?" she asked.

Leia ran down the Falcon's boarding ramp and away from the bitter dreams and memories and ran straight into Luke.

"I'm sorry Luke," she said through tears.

Luke closed his arms around her.

"I'm sorry, too, Leia. Are you alright? Did I hurt you when…when you ran into me?"

She sobbed into his shoulder.

"Oh, Luke," she wept. "Luke, he's gone, he's gone!"

Luke rested a hand on the back of her head and said nothing.

"If he is not at the site while all others are," said Algara, "Then they must have taken him."

"But why?" asked Atuarre. "What would they want from him?"

"Perhaps a ransom," KeeHeen suggested. "That would not be unusual. But to ransom a dead man…"

"You said the Jedi was not certain of his death?" Algara asked quietly.

"Yes. He seemed to believe that there was still some hope."

Han was kneeling on the stone of the cell-like room he had been thrown in, naked.

His wrists were hanging a foot over his head, clapped in two merciless plasteel manacles that hung from the ceiling on hard alloy chains. The chains ran through a loop on the ceiling and down to a hook by the door so that, if a person so chose, the manacles that bound Han's wrists could be pulled up, increasing his vulnerability and decreasing his defense.

Seven vicious slashes ran across his back, raw, red and bloody, the low light reflecting of the fresh fluid. A man stood behind him, holding a bloodstained whip in his hand, smiling sadistically and Lakaya smirked in the corner.

Han's sharp, irregular breathing echoed off the unforgiving stone of the walls and his perspiration ran off his face in small droplets and splashed onto the floor. The smell of fresh blood lingered mockingly in the stale air, as if to remind him, as though he could forget, that Lakaya was well and truly in control.

Lakaya looked at the man and he obediently raised the whip high over his head. Lakaya nodded and the man brought his arm down.

There was a sound like wood splitting and Han threw back his head, grimacing. He leant forwards again into the darkness, a new slash bleeding with the rest, his breathing labored, pained.

"Are you ready to break yet?"

Han didn't answer. Lakaya nodded once more and the man brought his fist down again, creating another glistening gash on Han's already damaged back.

"Why do you not co-operate?" asked Lakaya. "Can't you see that you can make this easier for yourself? Just give me the information."

Han's breathing was the only reply he gave.

Lakaya' smile faded, and then widened cold-heartedly and she looked at her man again. Han squeezed his eyes shut, knowing what was coming. Lakaya nodded yet again and the man brought his arm down in an arc.

Han cried out this time as the hard leather sliced easily, pitilessly, through his bare flesh, creating a new laceration that ran across his back and filled with blood, before a sharp breath sent it cascading down his back in a dark river.

"Oh, Gods..." he whispered between shuddered gasps as his salty perspiration trickled down his back and burned into the already endlessly searing wounds.

"Gods?" said Lakaya in amused tones. "Gods won't save you."

She stepped forward and bent low to whisper in Han's ear.

"But I will, if, and only if… you beg."

Han did not respond. This would be the one thing Lakaya would not draw from him. She could draw blood, she could draw cries, she could torture and she could starve, but Han would not beg for his life. It was the one satisfaction he would deny Lakaya, even if it meant Lakaya would beat him to death for it.

"No?"

"I...You..." Han began.

He moaned as his strength diminished.

"Very well. Continue until his back is flayed."

"We ought to return home," said Luke quietly to Senator Algara, "it's been three days. But I will leave some of our men to help you, and I'll send some more when we get there."

"Thank you, Skywalker-Commander. You are most generous. We owe you our lives and are greatly sorry for your horrendous loss. If ever you have need of our help-"

"Thank you," Luke whispered.

He turned to the doorway as his sister entered.

"Senator, it was most gracious of you to allow us temporary residence in such wonderful homes. I trust the information I gave you is satisfactory?"

"Yes, Your Highness. It will serve us well. And it was an honor to be of service. If there is anything you require-"

"No," she said softly, "thank you. And I also wish to thank you."

She turned to KeeHeen and his family. They looked taken aback.

"Us?"

"Yes. I wish to thank you, Atuarre, and you, Pakka, for teaching me things I never knew about a man I didn't know long enough, and you, KeeHeen, for accompanying my brother back to find my-"

Her sentence was choked for a second before she continued.

"To find the General's body, no matter that your search was unsuccessful. We must leave now, Luke, or we'll all have to recalculate our jump numbers. It was a privilege to have met you all. Clear skies."

She automatically gave the spacer's traditional farewell and turned and walked away before they could see her tears.

The habit of wishing anyone 'clear skies' was a habit she had picked up from Han.

Luke sat down at the helm of the Peacemaker, the small craft that he and half the security squad were to fly home aboard. A similar craft, the peacekeeper, powered up to his left. To his right sat the Falcon.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Leia?" he asked her through the comm.

"Yes," said Leia. "Han would want it this way."

She was to take the Falcon home by herself. Once home, she would pick up Chewie and explain what had happened.

She cursed herself for her formality but she had already sent ahead the message of events on the planet and arranged the memorial service. She wondered if more effort should have been made to find his body but knew that if her brother could not find it then there was little hope for anyone else.

After the service the Falcon, previously programmed to do so, would take off and jump into hyperspace with no-one at her helm, never to drop into normal space again, lost forever. It seemed right that no-one would ever fly her. She was sure the Wookiee would agree.

And so she would disappear, lost to legend and the stars.

Just as her master.

Han's head hung forward, mouth open, trying to breathe, the pain obstructing his ability to take in oxygen, of which there was even less in here since they had started the fire.

He was still sweating, losing fluid far too quickly and, in the humidity it had nowhere to evaporate to and was doing nothing for his rising body temperature. He opened his eyes occasionally but the perspiration ran into them, blinding him. He shook his head to clear it but it only made the pain worse.

There was a scraping sound and the door swung opened and crashed into the wall. The sound sliced through Han's consciousness. Lakaya walked in, followed by his favourite crony and Vaux. Han tried to raise his head but found himself unable.

Without saying a word, Lakaya started to stoke the fire again while her man walked over to the chain that was secured by the door and unlocked it from its hook. He then pulled it hard. Han was yanked into an almost upright position at which he cried out briefly as his arms were almost wrenched from their sockets.

Lakaya was digging around in the hot coals with a metal rod of some sort. Vaux was watching, interested. 

Lakaya held up the rod. The end was glowing almost white. She held it up as Han lifted his head; he managed once he realised what was going to happen.

Lakaya walked around Han to his raw, bloodied back and smiled. Han felt the heat on what was left of his back as Lakaya slowly lowered the rod and could even see it and himself reflected in Vaux's eyes. He squeezed his own eyes shut a split second before Lakaya pressed the rod into his flesh.

He heard it hiss as he felt the searing pain scream through his body and threw back his head, smelled his own charred flesh and boiling blood in the air.

"Ah, ah," he murmured, trying to fight it.

Lakaya moved the rod and Han hung his head again. Vaux had covered his nose and mouth with a handkerchief. He was by no means weak but the stench of burnt tissue was enough to turn any man's stomach.

When Lakaya brought the rod back once more, Han kept his eyes open and stared directly at Vaux from beneath his brows as his body shook.

Vaux stared at him. And smiled.

Leia paused at the consoles. The last fingers to grace them had been Han's. She found that did not want to touch them for fear that she erase his memory.

She remembered how the broad shoulders she loved to watch from her seat behind him as they hunched over while he navigated asteroid fields could also shield and protect her, how the powerful arms that could fire and hit at five hundred yards an enemy fighter could also be so gentle and so loving, how the strong hands that could fly across the panels as though of their own accord, the long fingers finding what they sought without any hesitation, could also be so tender and passionate.

"_Peacemaker to Falcon. Leia? Are you ready to leave?_"

Leia flinched at the sudden intrusion into her reminiscence.

"Y-Yes," she rasped, throat tight and suddenly sore. "Yes, I'm ready."

She heard Luke open a channel to Algara.

"_We're preparing for launch. Thank you for your hospi_tality."

"_Our hospitality is the least that we can offer you. If there is anything_-"

Leia switched of the comm. She did not want to hear more sympathy.

There was a brief delay as Luke finished his farewells and then their ships powered up and clearance was given.

"_Your Highness_?"

Reluctantly, Leia answered the hail.

"Yes, Senator?"

"_We are grateful for all the assistance you have provided. I would like to convey our most sincere_-"

"Thank you, Senator. It is most appreciated.

"_Clear skies, Your Highness_." 

Leia was about to reply but the sudden tears prevented it. Instead she took the Falcon to full power and lifted her clear of the landing pad.

Damn Algara. Damn the information. Damn the situation. Damn it all.

_But not Han. Please don't damn Han._

It had been the day and a half through hyperspace that had pained Luke the most. He still had that awful feeling he was missing something. 

When they dropped out of hyperspace, Luke watched the Falcon peel away from her escorts and felt the grief rise in Leia's heart. Her task was now to find Chewie and explain to him the terrible events of the past few days.

"Are you all right, Sir," asked his copilot.

Luke shook his head.

"No, Dex. And I don't guess we will be for along time."

Leia saw the figure of the Wookiee before she brought the Falcon in to land and knew that the moment she had been dreading since the morning after the terrible event was now at hand.

The Wookiee waved jovially as she made her approach. Ignorance is bliss, she thought. _Bliss ended soon enough, eh, Princess?_ that little voice reminded her.

Chewie walked up to the Falcon before the engines were even fully powered down. But when the ramp descended and Leia walked down alone, the Wookiee's expression clouded.

The Wookiee expressed his confusion at such a greeting and demanded, albeit lightheartedly, where his friend and copilot was.

But the reply he received caused a deep unease to stir in his heart and his blood to run cold.

"Chewbacca," she whispered, "there's something I have to tell you."

Leia stood at the front of the hall dressed in a jet black gown. Mon Mothma was drawing her speech to a close and Leia knew that soon her turn would come.

Millions were watching, this she knew. Her brother was at her side and there were hundreds in the hall alone, not one of whom Leia did not know. But at the same time, the service was being broadcast live to everyone one Coruscant who wished to see it. People had gathered in the commons to watch via the enormous screen that had been erected there and in bars and public houses and hotel lobbies and shuttle stations all over the planet. Even by shops down the streets, people lined the pavements in order to see. And the service recordings would be taken to other systems and shown there afterward.

Han Solo had been widely loved by all. And he would be greatly missed.

Mon Mothma had stopped talking and Leia walked to the podium in complete silence.

She rested her wrists on the wood in front of her and gathered all her strength. Then she took a deep breath and began.

"It is never easy to look around you and realize that there is something missing. It is harder to realize that you will never get it back. It is harder still to know that nothing can ever replace it.

"General Han Solo was as trustworthy a man as anyone could hope to meet. He saved lives with no regard for his own safety. He stared death in the face on more than one occasion and made sure that death blinked first.

"The New republic was grateful to have Han Solo at her side and all of us are only sorry that we did not have more time.

"When I met Han Solo he was a mercenary, a smuggler. I had no respect for him and that thought shames me deeply. One of his greatest hopes was that some day all people would be considered the same. That one day, love and friendship and comradeship would span all classes.

Rogue squadron sat in the front rows. Leia saw them.

"Looking around us we can see that he had begun to make his dream a reality. For even as I speak I can see those he flew with, those he fought with."

She turned to Luke and Chewie.

"I can see his closest friends, those who loved him like a brother."

She turned back to face those she addressed.

"And rank and class was never a factor in these relationships.

"Han Solo rose from the depths of society to become one of the greatest fighters the Rebellion ever saw. It was thanks to him that there was a ship on hand to rescue me from the Empire. It was thanks to him that there was a pilot alive to put those plans to use. It was thanks to him that the bunker on Endor was breached and destroyed. It is thanks to him that we can stand tall today and speak of friends and comrades, of each other, as equal.

"And it is thanks to Han Solo that this galaxy is a better place: For we knew him. And that is a privilege beyond words."

Leia stood and faced the silent congregation before her and drew up the strength she needed. In her mind were the final words she would say to them - a poem - written hundreds of years ago on Corellia and often included in Corellian wedding vows, as she had hoped it would be for hers. It was one of Han's favorites. She stared hard at the back wall and took a deep breath.

"If I'd never met you  
Never known what I could feel  
The mind that always longed for you  
Would rend and never heal

If I'd never known you  
Never known the love you hold  
The heart that you have warmed for me  
Forever would be cold

If I'd never-"

Luke looked across at her and she bowed her head to hide the tears. When she continued, her voice was weak and trembled and tears had begun to fall from her eyes.

"If I'd never…loved you  
N-Never held you in my arms  
The days and nights could pass ignored  
The storms blend with the calms

And if you'd never been here  
I never would have learned to soar  
But I've...I've met, and known, and I've loved you  
And I will…forever more"

She descended the stairs as the Corellian Anthem began - a choral masterpiece. All those voices singing in the minor key and in harmony reflected in so many ways the man she had lost. Although he hated to admit it, he worked with others in a kind of harmony but always knowing that danger and sadness were never far away. They never had been for as long as he could remember.

"Luke," Leia whispered as they left the great hall. "Luke, I can't do it."

She nodded toward the Falcon when look looked at her, puzzled.

"Do you want _me_ to?"

She shook her head.

"That's not what I mean. Luke, _we have to find him_."

Luke glanced at her.

"What do you mean?"

Leia stopped walking and turned to him.

"Luke, I can't just send her into hyperspace. I want to find him. When we find him, I'll bring him back and he can be aboard when she jumps, but I can't just let her go. I know it sound stupid but…Shouldn't they go together? Do you understand what I mean?"

Luke nodded.

"Of course. You want to make sure that he's been properly laid to rest."

Han looked up as Lakaya returned to his cell.

"My dear General," she said with a disturbing gleam in her eye.

Han did not grace her mocking with an answer.

"You had best learn to appreciate me. You will be here for a while yet."

"Don't…count on it," he slurred.

She smiled.

"Friends in high places?"

Han nodded.

"And in…low ones."

She laughed.

"Oh, but General," she whispered, a strand of hair caressing his cheek of its own accord. "How can you hope to be rescued if no-one knows you're alive?"

Han's battered face showed as best it could an expression of confusion.

Lakaya snapped her fingers and a small, flat, silver box was brought in by a stormtrooper. The trooper left and Lakaya opened the small box to reveal a screen.

"This was broadcast seven days after your capture, General. That was three days ago. It only reached us this morning. We thought you'd be interested to see it."

She pressed the 'play' button on the tiny console and Han's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

But they were soon wide in realisation.

He was watching his own memorial service.


	6. Of Body And Of Mind

He must have been there for days. That much was certain. The methods they used were efficient. Hardly any skin remained on his back. His limbs were shattered, smashed, cracked and broken with now nailless fingers clawing the darkness with each pang of distress, yet another attempt to draw information from him that he had told them time and again he did not have. And yet still they hung him from them.

Every nerve tingled: When they were not torturing him with instruments of affliction, they injected him with more Lytisil Verithinine to ensure that he was awake and in pain. Although pain seemed to be too mild an expression for what he felt. Pain, whatever that was, was something he had passed long ago. Even agony was inadequate.

And they enjoyed it all. He had known people to torture for revenge and for interrogation, or even, he remembered, to use the victim as bait, but there were, even now, very few who tortured for pleasure.

Of course, they would never admit it: If anyone asked, Vaux was trying to gain information. But he had seen the gleam in their eyes as he screamed in the throes of suffering, seen them take pleasure from it. And it appeared that one of them was about to do again: the door opened and in walked the Ch'thorian female who had tormented him for so long.

Lakaya stalked around Han who was almost fully upright, arms stretched to their full length at forty five degrees on either side of him, and it was agony; she knew he was hanging from arms that were bruised and bloody, neither intact. He was barely conscious, barely lucid, but still the eye that he could open followed her. His breathing was irregular, sharp and pained and his entire body ached.

She eventually stopped in front of him. Her hands remained by her sides but her hair reached up and caressed his cheek. His eye closed and his tried to ignore the sensation.

"How long…have I..?"

"Days, Solo. _Weeks_."

Her hair stroked his bruised chest and brushed over his torn lips. He whimpered.

"Shhh," she whispered, stepping closer, "it's all right."

She lifted a hypo. Han shook his head but she touched her fingers to his lips.

"It's not Lytisil Verithinine, it's Lytisil _Macerotisine_. It won't hurt you."

Still he shook his head but she pressed it to his left shoulder and waited. After a few moments, the pain that had been penetrating every nerve began to ebb, until he could barely feel it. The weakness remained but he could breathe and could stay conscious without concentration.

"You see?" she asked. "When you co-operate you receive rewards."

Han panicked.

"Co-operate?" he mumbled through swollen lips that would not properly obey his command.

Had he let something slip during these past days – weeks? – of torture?

"Your brother does not believe you are dead, General, a victory in itself."

"Brother?"

Realization dawned.

"Luke!"

"Yes; Skywalker."

"How do you…know that?"

She smiled.

"Because we are both Jedi. I felt him. Through your mind."

A cold knot tightened in Han's stomach. If she was a Jedi then she could take anything she wanted from him. As if sensing his thoughts – and for all he knew, she might have been – she stroked his bruised temple and said,

"No, I cannot search your mind, but not for lack of trying. I have found that there is a defense around you, constructed of that famous hostility and cynicism, that I cannot penetrate. But I digress. While the drug's sister, Lytisil Verithinine, enhances _pain,_ Lytisil _Macerotisine_ enhances _pleasure_. There is only so much knowledge I can gather from pain. I thought it best to try more persuasive methods. I cannot gain what _we_ want, but it is time for me to gain what _I_ want, Han, from your body and your mind."

That was the first time she had used his first name and for some reason, it frightened him beyond words.

She ran her thumb along his lips.

"Do you feel it?"

Han felt the change, the intensification, but said nothing.

"Do you like it?"

Han shook his head.

"No," he whispered as she ran her hand along his collarbone, but it was obvious, at least to himself, that his body did even if his mind did not.

Her hair began to stroke his chest and her hand slid lower. Han let out a gasp and felt utmost shame as he felt his exposed body begin to respond to her.

"Ah," she whispered as she noticed the reaction, standing on her toes to reach him. "You _do_ feel it."

Every touch was magnified, every caress intensified. He knew he had to overcome it but he had no strength.

She held her chin near his and brushed her lips against his mouth. Han's lips parted in response without his consent and the hair on the back of his neck rose and refused to lie flat.

"No," he whispered as she did it again. "No, please…Leia…"

She smiled. This time his lips moved when hers touched them.

"Forget her," Lakaya whispered. "She will never come for you."

"No," Han said, involuntarily dipping his head to allow her touch. "They'll come for me."

How could this be? He was still unable to fight despite what she was saying, despite her previous actions, almost as if he wanted it to happen.

_No! No, fight it! Fight it!_

She held her lips just in front of him. His head moved to take them but she moved away and stared at him.

_Fight it, Solo, she's drugged you. Solo, Fight It! _

She brushed her lips against his once more and a groan of pain and anguish escaped him and he parted his lips for her.

_No! his mind screamed. Fight It, Solo, Fight. If you give in she'll read you like a book!_

But it was no use. Every touch was welcome for it was not pain. The violation was distressing; he wanted her away from him, could not bear to have her touch him, revulsion and pain surging through his weakened body, but at the same time he could not live without her.

Her hair wrapped about his body and her arms about his neck. And this time he had nowhere to go.

"…And that's what I meant by the strange feeling," Luke finished as he sat back against the holochess table in the Falcon's 'lounge'.

Leia stared at him, eyes wide. Chewie did likewise.

"So he's still alive?"

Luke met her gaze solemnly.

"I'm not saying that, Leia. Please don't get your hopes up. I'm saying that finding him shouldn't prove too difficult. We just have to trust the feeling we have."

"That's something I think we're all good at," Leia said quietly. "It's far past time to bring him home."

Passage of time was not an awareness he had anymore. There was a growing darkness, a growing cold that enveloped his mind, was beginning to creep into his heart and would soon feast on his soul.

Soon, rational thought would be impossible. Hallucinations had begun and voices whispered to him from the past and from dreams and from the desires he possessed and remembered that were now the only comfort he held.

The distant recollection of a voice, the far away remembrance of a face, the long lost memory of a warm and tender touch.

Nightmare and reality had merged and were indistinguishable from each other; the horrors of both were equal now.

He was alone with reality and resitance fading slowly into an infinite blackness and, with his last ounce of strength, he called the one person he knew would hear.

"Leia…Leia…Please, Gods, find me Leia..."

"How long will we have to search, Luke?" Leia asked him from Han's chair as the ship jumped into hyperspace once more.

She had taken Han's place at Chewie's side for the duration of their journey so far.

"It's been four weeks since…"

"I know, but I can feel something," Luke reassured her. "We're getting closer all the time, Leia, I know it."

"How do you know?"

Luke paused before he answered. This was a rational question.

"I see his light, I feel his presence, almost as though someone were trying to mask it, to hide it from us."

"I don't know what to believe, Luke. Only a Jedi could accomplish that. And they would have to be strong to affect you. I don't know if we'll ever-"

_Leia…_

"Leia?" asked Luke.

But she did not answer him.

_Leia…_

She stared out at the light tunnel of hyperspace.

_Please, Gods, find me Leia…_

With a sudden flood of feeling, a red streak appeared in front of her, diving out of their path and out of hyperspace: A trail, a path, a signal, a beacon to follow! She heard Luke gasp and knew he had felt it too.

"Chewie!" they both yelled in unison, and Leia took hold of the controls.

"Get us out of hyperspace! _NOW_!"


	7. A Rescue From Clear Skies

It was like a white light that blinded both Luke and Leia as the Falcon dropped out of hyperspace.

"I feel him!" said Luke and Leia at exactly the same moment.

And then Leia burst into tears.

"He's in so much pain! Hold on, Han, please!"

"I know," said Luke as Chewie roared his distress. "But we know where he is, we can feel him now! Chewie, that planet, right there. Take us down. Hurry."

Han let his body hang there. It wouldn't be long now. He could feel his body beginning to refuse to fight any longer.

Soon the darkness would give way to light and freedom could prevail over his captured spirit.

"Hold on, Han, Please…"

_Leia?_ His mind whispered into the shadows and the unpitying stone of the cell.

"Yes, Han! Han, I'm here! Please hold on!"

_Leia? How did you find me?_

"I love you. I'd never leave you."

_Hurry, Leia, please. Let me see you. I can't hold on much longer._

Lakaya flinched as an alarm began, but not due to the sound. Before the man at the console to her right even opened his mouth, she felt three new presences and a ship drop into normal space.

"Secure Solo," she said. "I will mask his presence for as long as I can. We still need the information Reeikan gave him. "

Luke's lightsaber hummed into life as he swung it and it sliced the nearest stormtrooper in two with a loud crackle.

"You go with Chewie," he shouted to Leia as her own lightsaber screamed into the trooper running toward her. "We'll find him, Leia."

Lakaya turned her head. Skywalker was trying to force her mask of Solo away but she would not easily be dissuaded.

But one of the other two he had brought with him was Jedi too, if not as powerful. She would be an easy kill and then she could lead Skywalker away from Solo with much less effort than it took to hide his presence.

She lifted her lightsaber from the table and ran down the corridor toward…

The _Princess_? _Princess Leia Organa_? a _Jedi_?

No matter. Soon she would die, as would Skywalker, and Solo would crack and give her the information. And then he would be hers.

Luke was immediately confused. The presences he had felt near Han when they dropped into normal space could only be described as evil. Most of them were minions, hardly capable of their own ideals, but there were two that stood out.

A male, an officer, and the boiling hatred for Han that Luke found inside of him.

The other was female, not human and…Jedi? And there were few he had ever felt who were more evil than her.

"HAN!" Leia called down the dark tunnels, using her lightsaber as a torch. "Chewie, you go down that way. If you find him then holler!"

Luke's confusion was by no means unfounded. Han seemed to be everywhere, in every room. This was a trick, but he had no way to counter.

Chewbacca began to kick in every door he found in case his friend could no longer talk to answer his call.

"HAN! HAN, WHERE ARE YOU?"

Leia was on the verge of finding a new direction to move in when a throbbing drone hummed in the darkness and a new light joined hers.

Luke began to adopt Chewbacca's tactic and used his strength in the force, not to locate his friend's failing light, but to destroy the locks on the doors that lined the corridor.

Chewie kicked in another door, as he had the previous twenty-three. And he had as much luck as he had with the other doors, too.

Luke felt a hot pain sear through his mind as he touched the next door, but not a pain that belonged to him. With his mind as well as his heart, he forced the door through and what he saw frightened him. Hanging by broken arms in the middle of the room, naked, bruised, bloody and unmoving was Han Solo.

"Who are you?" asked Leia as the woman began to circle.

"Can't you feel who I am?" she replied.

Leia focused her mind to probe this strangers and found images of pain, of blood and torture, and of who they belonged to.

With no further hesitation she screamed and swung the glowing shaft in her hands around to meet her opponent.

Chewie felt as much as heard Leia's scream and turned to where he perceived that it came from. He heard too the humming of lightsabers and, in strides that would make an imperial star cruiser look slow, he took off down the corridor.

Luke touched his hand to Han's temple. Han grunted and tried to open his eyes.

_Take strength from me, Han_, Luke thought, enveloping Han's failing presence with his own, warming the spirit, calling the soul back to the light, providing strength where there was none.

This time Han's eyes managed to open and his pallid cheeks showed a little color.

"Luke," he breathed, the flicker of the half-smile Luke knew flashing momentarily across the battered face, despite the quiet agony Luke felt it cause.

"Yes, Han, it's me. I'm going to get you out of here."

He unlocked the manacles with a wave of his hand and caught his friend as he fell from his chains.

Leia swung her blade again but Lakaya blocked with frightening ease and thrust her own orange lightsaber toward Leia.

Leia swung against the lightsaber as she did and knocked it away from her face.

And that was when Lakaya started playing dirty.

Chewie almost ran into Luke who was supporting Han almost completely.

"The Cub needs a blanket" Chewie said quickly as he noticed Han's shivering.

"Yes, he does, Chewie, and fast. I'll find him one. Is Leia all right?"

"I believe so. But the Little Princess is fighting a duel with someone. I have not learned their name."

"Leia?" asked Han, his voice full of concern for her.

"I will take care of that. You keep the Cub."

"Yeah," said Han feebly. "You keep me. Just…don't let her get…hurt, Pal. I wish I could…help ya but I…don't think I can…stand up…anymore..."

"That does not surprise me, Cub. Allow the Little One to help you."

"Sure thing, Chewie… Sure thing."

Han grabbed a couple of fistfuls of chestnut fur and hung on to his old friend.

"It's…good to…see ya, Pal."

Chewie returned the embrace of his weakened friend with far less fervor than he would have ordinarily and then turned to Luke as he handed Han back.

"Take care of the Cub, Little One."

"I will, Chewie. Come on, Han. Let's get you back to the Falcon."

Leia reeled with a punch to the stomach by an invisible hand and staggered to regain her footing, but another blow hit her face and she hit the ground.

Lakaya stepped forward to decapitate her with her lightsaber or, failing that, to twist her head and break her neck with her connection to the force, but Leia, still half lying on the ground, swung her own lightsaber and caught a thick and writhing strand of Lakaya's hair.

Lakaya screamed and clutched at the scorched mess. Then she swung at Leia and knocked the lightsaber from her hand. It skittered across the floor, bounced off the far wall and came to rest just out of Leia's reach.

Luke and Han hurried out into the daylight and across to their means of escape. Han, now shrouded in a blanket, winced in pain: It had been weeks since he had seen the sun and now his eyes protested at the lack of adjustment time.

Suddenly, a bolt of energy flashed so close to Luke that it actually singed the hair on the side of his head.

"Hold on, Han," Luke said and he flung them both behind the nearest cover – a stack of cargo crates.

Han hit the ground with a hard bump and groaned as Luke propped him up, accidentally scraping his back against the crates.

"I'm sorry, Han."

"Don't…mention it, Kid."

Lakaya launched herself at Leia and landed square on her chest, knocking the breath form her.

"Pretty little thing," Lakaya said as her hair wound around Leia's neck. "It's just a terrible shame that you won't live to see him."

Leia felt the pressure against her throat, nauseating violation, like the pressure of a thumb over an eye, and grasped the strands with shaking hands. But Lakaya's hands took a firm hold on her wrists and forced them away while her hair continued to strangle Leia.

Han noticed, while Luke fired back at the stormtroopers and deflected their stray shots with his lightsaber, that Krixt Vaux was edging his way out of the building, trying to make his escape unseen.

One of the stormtroopers Luke had just hit fell with a bloodcurdling scream and smacked into the ground, blood seeping from beneath his white helmet.

His blaster rifle scudded across the hard permacrete and came to rest within Han's reach. Han took it as a sign. Vaux had crossed Han Solo one time too many, and, this time, his rank would not save him.

Leia ceased her futile clawing at the strands of hair, her lack of oxygen sapping her will to fight, and, with her last moments of coherence, clawed at Lakaya's face with one hand and stretched out toward her lightsaber with the other, obscuring her thoughts from Lakaya's expert probing.

Lakaya laughed, not noticing Leia's hand as her fingers curled around the hard metal.

Leia grabbed her lightsaber, tucked in her arm, and flicked the switch.

Lakaya's laughter ended with a soft, startled gurgle, her eyes wide. She glanced over her shoulder to see the top half of Leia's lightsaber protruding from her back and stared, open mouthed as her hair began to unravel from around Leia's slender neck.

She looked back at Leia, frowned in confusion and then her eyes rolled and she slumped forward.

Leia switched off her lightsaber and pushed the –quite literally – dead weight of Lakaya's corpse from her chest, taking a huge breath and coughing violently. A huge hairy arm wrapped around her waist and hauled her to her feet.

"Little princess, the Little One found the Cub and has taken him back to the ship."

"Then let's get out of here, Chewie. Let's go home."

Han crawled slowly away from Luke, who was too distracted by the stormtroopers to notice, with the blaster rifle in his broken hands. He made it around the corner and hauled himself to his feet ignoring the excruciating pain.

"Vaux," he rumbled. "Turn around."

Leia saw Luke as soon as she and Chewie exited the building. He was across the courtyard, deflecting their shots and firing his own.

"Let's give him a hand, huh, Chewie?"

"Now, Slick…" said Vaux as Han leveled the blaster rifle at his chest.

He didn't care that his arms were broken. He could still move the left one and movement was all he needed: Adrenaline was giving him the rest.

"I told you: Don't call me 'Slick'."

"Think about this…"

Leia glanced around her to try and find a way around the melee and three figures caught her eye. The first was an imperial officer with a blaster rifle pointed directly at him. The second was a man, covered only by a blanket.

The third was a stormtrooper who was doing a wonderful job of sneaking up on the second man without being noticed.

"HAN!"

Han heard the warning, spun around and fired, sending a blaster bolt burning through the chest plate of the underhanded stormtrooper but was too slow to turn back in time to hit Vaux.

Vaux got his arm around Han's neck and attempted to break it. Han, struggling to breathe, turned the blaster rifle in his hand, jammed it back into Vaux's stomach and pulled the trigger. Vaux crumpled.

Leia watched without quite believing as Vaux fell to the ground. Han looked up at her and dropped onto his knees.

She stood and ran toward him as he fell onto his side and lay back on the ground.

Luke fired at the last of the stormtroopers and drew a hand across his forehead as the final one crashed to the floor.

Rain pounded the trees surrounding them and then swept over the courtyard. Luke allowed it to cool his face for a moment, tipping his head back toward the sky.

Alarms still whooped inside the building. He looked down at Han and…Wait…Where was Han?

She saw his hand before she saw anything else: It was on the ground, protruding for behind the crates and was completely still.

Leia dropped to her knees beside the blanketed form on the permacrete.

"Han," she said, kneeling over him.

His eyes flickered open and rolled for a moment before focusing on her face. She breathed a quick smile at him.

"Leia..?"

"Oh, Han…" she whispered, running her hand across his cheek.

An unsure smile played across his pallid lips.

"You…came for me..?"

She felt her eyes prickle and her throat tighten as his eyes glistened.

"Of course I came for you, Han, I…"

And then her eyes began to take in the horrific wounds.

"Why did they do this? You didn't know anything."

Han tipped his head back, asking her in silent gesture to lean down to him. She turned her head so that her ear was by his mouth.

"Yeah, I did. I knew all the time: Jodrell…System, Heta II, complex…twenty one, code word, 'Standard', access…code alpha-gamma-one-one-three."

Leia looked incredulous and shook her head.

"How did-"

"Rieekan…told me, in case somthin'…happened to you."

He grinned up at her proudly, showing bloodied teeth.

"She found out it was…Rieekan; she got that much outta…my head but…she couldn't get any more'n that. And I…I didn't tell 'em, Leia. …didn't tell 'em. It got…close a couple of times but…I didn't tell 'em."

"Oh, Han, I'm so sorry."

"But you came for me…" he murmured again.

Her smile faded. 

"Yes…"

"B-Because you love me?"

She nodded.

"Yes, Han, because I love you."

Why was he so pale? And why was he getting paler. He tried to lift his head.

"Here," she whispered and placed her hand under his neck, feeling his whole body shaking as he struggled to breathe. "I've got you."

"I love you too, Leia, more than anything. And I'm sorry…"

_Sorry? What for?_ But she nodded anyway to reassure him.

"Hold on, Han, it's alright now.. CHEWIE! OVER HERE!"

Han's smile suddenly vanished and one of his hands grasped at her sleeve weakly as his eyes shot open.

"Oh, Gods…" he murmured.

"Han? Han, what is it?"

"Wish…skies, Leia…" he rasped.

"What?"

"Wish me…clear skies, Leia…"

Leia's eyes narrowed and she shook her head. Was he delirious? Or just in pain? It looked like both.

"Why?" she asked.

Tears filled his eyes and he looked up at her imploringly, tugging at the sleeve, begging her.

"Please, Leia…Hurry…Please…"

The tears were beginning to escape, now.

"Clear skies, Han!" she smiled without thinking, willing to try anything to placate him, to end his pain. "Clear skies, alright?"

Her smile ought to make him feel better, ought to comfort him. It was only then she began to think about what he'd just asked of her

Clear skies? she thought. Isn't that the traditional spacers…farewell?

And then she realised what it was she had done. She had said goodbye, given him permission to leave; ended his pain.

"No, Han!" she said suddenly, eyes wide. "No! Stay with me, Han, please!"

But already his tears were being shed through a weary smile. His eyes closed and he laughed quietly, then his head rocked back and he lay still.

Leia stared at him, stock still in absolute horror, her brown eyes as large as sensor dishes, tears streaming down her beautiful face.

Then it hit home; she shook her hands and grabbed his shoulders.

"HAN!"

She shook him again. Still he did not move.

She lowered her head to his face but felt no breath.

"No, Han, no! Please!"

She pressed two fingers to his throat.

"No, don't do this…"

She rested her head on his chest, desperate to find some, any, sign of life, any at all, just to let her know that she had not come this far only to loose him again. She listened, soaked the skin she leant on with soft tears of raw anguish, she held her breath, hoped, dreamed, prayed, anything that her love had not left her.

But the heart of gold that had saved friends and soothed pain, the heart of strength that had survived all ordeals be it carbonite or scan grid, the heart of adoration that had waited for so long to beat in time with hers, now beat no more.

Han Solo's heart was still.


	8. A Choice

Not now, not after so long, not now she had found him.

"NO!" Leia screamed. "YOU WON'T DO THIS TO ME!"

With considerable force, and choking back her tears to help him, she pushed his head back and clamped her lips over his, holding his nose.

She breathed for him once, twice, and then settled herself over him. She pushed down over his sternum, fifteen times in rapid succession, the way she had been taught, and then bent to breathe for him once more.

Luke felt a sudden coldness wash over him as the light he had been protecting disappeared. Chewie was bolting toward the crates at the other end of the courtyard and he could just about see the top of Leia's head before she disappeared behind the crates again.

In two well placed leaps, he was there and he settled beside Leia as she pumped Han's heart again.

She bent to breathe for him again and could not stall her tears any longer. Then she tried pumping his heart again.

This didn't feel so bad. It was like swimming, or floating in zero-g. And it was warm. And he wasn't hurting any longer.

"Come on," she whispered, and then fastened her lips to his mouth to try again.

Twelve minutes had passed.

"One," she whispered and lowered her head again. "Two."

Then she got up on her knees. Luke put a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen!"

Then back down. Chewie shook his head sadly.

"One…two!"

Then back up.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine-"

Han spluttered suddenly and brought up a throatful of blood with a gasp that sounded as though his lungs themselves were burning.

Leia caught him as his body convulsed and Chewbacca moved forward to take him from her. She wiped the blood off his face as she handed him over and Chewie stood, cradling the blanketed treasure he held as though it were his own, staring down at the thing that lay there with squishy mess where once arms and face had been.

They were going home. And she had what she'd come for.

The medic walked up to Leia and rested his hand on her shoulder.

"Your Highness, we have done our best for him. His heart failed once while we were operating but we managed to get him back. Would you like to see him?"

Leia turned her tear-streaked face toward him and nodded.

When she entered his room, Han was lying in a horizontal bacta tank, his body covered by bruises, cuts, gashes, scrapes and lacerations.

"We have reset his arms and they appear to be working. The fingernails that were missing from his right hand are growing back nicely and the fractures in his face are almost completely repaired. There is, however still a great deal of damage, Your Highness, and the scars, on his back at least, will be permanent."

Leia nodded as she watched the pale form of Han Solo try and move in the bacta, despite the fact that he was unconscious.

His feet and legs kicked weakly and his hands opened and clenched into fists, trying to escape some phantom assault.

She turned away, unable to stomach watching and she ran from the room and toward the nearest 'fresher.

Leia walked into the room.

Han was lying in his bed under a thin sheet, breathing hard and shallowly, an oxygen mask over his pallid face, his lips tinged pale blue. He had clean bandages to protect his wounds now. She pulled one of the chairs up to the side of his bed and settled herself in it. It was dark outside, but would not be for much longer.

She brushed a stray strand of hair from his forehead before resting a comforting hand on the muscle of his chest and sighed.

It had been two weeks since they had returned, three days since they had taken him from the bacta, and Han had not stirred, other than the movement that an occasionally excruciating breath caused him to make.

She watched the only other movement, the only constant movement, which was the irregular rise and fall of his chest as his body struggled fought to breathe.

"Come on, Solo," she whispered.

Everyone sat silently in the lounge.

Luke was staring into the floor. 

Chewie was pacing silently.

Wedge was swilling his whiskey in the glass.

Mon Mothma, who had come at once at the news of Han's removal from the bacta, was staring at her steepled fingers.

No one spoke.

No one knew what to say.

No one dared say what they were thinking.

Things looked bad this time.

Leia stared at Han, trying not to think about her lover's condition.

The medic glanced at his chrono.

"Your highness?" he asked quietly.

Leia did not turn, but moved her head slightly in acknowledgement.

"Can I get you anything."

Leia shook her head and went back to watching Han.

"Very well," said the medic quietly, and left.

Leia watched as The medic checked Han's pulse, his breathing, his temperature, anything to provide any good news at all.

"Well?" asked Leia. "The transfusion helped, didn't it?"

"Yes," The medic replied, "and we're all grateful to Wedge for it, but it's just not enough."

"He's fighting though?"

The medic nodded very slightly.

"Unfortunately; a losing battle. I regret to be the one to say it, but...if he doesn't wake up soon then he...probably isn't going to."

Leia shrank a few inches. Her mind raced.

This was Han Solo. She had known him through chases, through explosions, through blaster wounds, through abductions, through imperials, and he was going to die because her?

"But...I mean...isn't there anything you can do?"

"No. I've done all I can. The rest is up to the Gods. There's nothing more I can do."

Leia shot him a glance of pure panic.

"What?" she asked incredulously.

"Even if he does wake up, he may not survive. He needs strength to overcome it, which is something he does not have."

Leia looked down at Han.

"There is nothing left to do now except pray. If his condition…changes...You'll be the first to know."

"I'm sure I will," she whispered, "because I'm not leaving."

Leia looked at Han and wondered if the medics had made the correct decision.

She would hate them forever even if they had, but perhaps it was unkind of her not to accept it.

They had informed her that because his heart had been weakened it could fail and, if it should do so, they would not resuscitate.

If she were here when it happened, then she most certainly would resuscitate!

But it would not be enough, and she knew it.

"Come on, Han, Please," she whispered. "Come back to us."

There was no cold any more, no pain, only a warm light surrounding everything, healing it all.

There was comfort beyond any he had ever felt before, security he had never experienced and a light, a strong white light through a nearby door that beckoned him.

He stepped toward it.

Leia looked up suddenly. Han's life signs had begun to fall.

She grabbed hold of his hand, the tears beginning again.

"Come on, Han, come back."

The lines dipped again and a shrill alarm rang out.

Han reached out to touch the door.

"Come on, Han, come back…"

That sound was a voice, and it was one he recognized but could no longer place. Beside him, the light grew, strong and warm, summoning him, drawing him, telling him to Come Home…

And he knew suddenly that he had a choice.

He could reach forward, step through this door, allow the wonderful warmth and the light to wash over him, to start a new existence, join the greater expanse, be one with the universe.

Or he could turn and go back the way he had come, back down the long black tunnel, away from the healing glow, to the voice that was small and insignificant to the universe that somehow knew his name.

Without any hesitation at all he made his choice:

He mock-saluted the door with a cocky grin, turned, and ran at top speed away from the light, back down the tunnel and toward the voice.

Toward his real home.

Han's eyes flickered open and he found he was staring at a white ceiling. He could hear gentle sobbing and feel the slight vibrations of a woman in distress.

He turned his head and saw Leia with her head buried in her arm next to him. Raising one hand he touched the top of her head with his fingers and smiled weakly.

"Hey, Princess," he managed.

Leia almost smiled and then she burst into tears once more and buried her head in his shoulder this time.

"That's not the usual reaction," he grinned.

She laughed while she cried and gradually quieted.

He stroked her face, never mind that it took all his strength.

"I was so worried Han, I thought you-"

She started to cry again.

"Easy, Princess," he said, his words muffled by the mask.

She laughed a little and nuzzled into his palm.

"Hey?"

She looked up at him.

"Give us a kiss?"

"Why?" she smiled, not really needing a reason.

" 'Cause I need it," he answered, raising a hand to swipe at the oxygen mask.

And she needed it, too.

She kissed him slowly, savoring him, knowing that this was what she wanted, only this.

"I was so afraid you were gonna leave me," she whispered when they finally broke apart.

Han, although he was a little out of breath, said something that puzzled her.

"Then let's make sure that never happens, huh, Princess?"

She frowned.

"What? How?"

He grinned, took her hand and pressed it to his lips.

"Easy," he whispered. "Marry me."

FIN

-----------------

So, whaddya think?

I'm working on a sequel and if anyone's interested in this then I'll post it when it's done.

Let me know, guys. I know you're out there!


End file.
